


Weekend Rockstars

by sullenhearts



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Dealing, M/M, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21512896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullenhearts/pseuds/sullenhearts
Summary: Told backwards in time, we see Nick and Louis get married after going through a difficult time, then we see Louis serving time for dealing cocaine, and finally we see how the two met. So it's an angst sandwich.
Relationships: Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 27
Collections: The Tomlinshaw Fic Exchange 2019





	Weekend Rockstars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [candypinklouis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/candypinklouis/gifts).



**Now**

“It gives me great pleasure,” Ian said, grinning into the microphone, “to welcome the happy couple to the dancefloor for their first dance!” 

There’s applause and Aimee whoops and someone else wolf whistles and Nick squeezes Louis’ hand and the two of them step on to the dancefloor. The song just starting up is gorgeous, one of Nick’s faves, and he leans into his husband as the words come in. 

It _is_ a little bit funny, this feeling inside. Nick has never been able to hide the depths of his feelings for Louis and now – now they’re married. After everything they’ve been through, Nick wasn’t sure they’d ever last the distance. It had all been over at one point, including the shouting, which had been long lasting and horrendous. And now he’s standing on a wooden floor in front of all their nearest and dearest, dancing to Elton John and actually not making a bad stab at it.

“Calm down,” Louis says under his breath. “You’re shaking.”

“Sorry,” Nick says. “It’s all a bit…”

“I know, I know. It’s mental.”

“It is,” Nick nods. 

“Everyone’s looking at us.”

“I hate it.”

Louis laughs. “This one was your choice, divvy.”

“I know, but bloody hell, it’s long innit?”

“I don’t suppose we have to dance the whole song, do we?”

“Don’t we?”

Louis shakes his head. “Course not. Give Ian the nod, he’ll swap it over.”

“Alright,” Nick says, and squeezes Louis close before nodding at Ian. He’s rewarded with a kiss on the cheek from Louis. 

Ian says, “Louis and Nick would now love it if you’d all join them for this next one…”

The jagged guitar sets in, that distinctive sound that Louis loves. People pile on to the dancefloor, laughing at the Arctic Monkeys song. No one’s surprised, Nick is pretty sure. Harry and Niall start singing along, Louis joining in with them but his hand still in Nick’s as the song crashes in. 

“I bet you look good on the dancefloor,” Nick says in Louis’ ear, trying to sound pervy, trying to make Louis laugh. 

It works, the laugh audible even over the music. 

Okay, so Your Song might be a good choice for your first dance, but I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor is a fucking banging choice for your second one. 

It’s been a fantastic day. They had a ceremony in a room at the Town Hall, performed by a friendly lady who seemed genuinely interested in them and their happiness. They had readings from Lottie and Liv, including Jay’s favourite poem. Nick’s pretty sure everyone cried at that, but of course they had to include her. There were some laughs, too, partly brought about by four year old Freddie, who was in charge of flower petals and kept throwing them everywhere, even when he wasn’t supposed to. He’s crashed out now on two chairs, Nick’s jacket slung over him. Then they’d all walked down the road to Miller & Carter, a steakhouse, where steak and chips and chateaubriand had been on the menu. Perfect for them – good food, good beer, not too much fuss. And now they’re in a function room back at the town hall for the disco. Nick is knackered; he’s been up since half past five and he’s not used to that anymore, but he doesn’t want the day to ever end. 

They’re married. After everything that happened, Nick’s now wearing a very nice white gold ring and his husband is twirling Liv round and round while she laughs loudly. Nick can see waiting staff setting out the buffet on the tables down the side of the room. His mum goes over to fuss so Nick leaves her to it and takes Liv’s hand to join in with the dance. 

Tomorrow, they’re going on honeymoon to Italy for two weeks. At the weekend, there might be a write up of their wedding in the local paper. It might drag up all the past again, Nick’s kind of prepared for that, but not even that thought can dampen his spirits. 

They made it. They really made it. He lifts Louis’ hand to his and kisses it. 

**1 Year Ago**

Nick puts his phone and keys and everything else into his bag, then locks it into a locker and takes the elastic band with the key on, and pops it on his wrist. He takes off his belt and puts it in the little basket. The warder runs a wand over his body, eyes bored, barely pausing. Nick can hardly breathe, worried each time that something will set off the beeps, even though he knows he’s got nothing illicit on him, and even though he’s a low risk visitor. The wardens don’t pay attention to him, not the way they do to women who bring babies and tons of bags along. 

He doesn’t even get the looks he used to get, even though surely some people around here must listen to his show. He’s still in the papers sometimes. He thinks that it’s likely that people are trying to sell stories, but there’s bigger scandals than Nick Grimshaw visiting his boyfriend in prison. Time moves on. Louis has been here for almost a year now, half of his two year sentence. 

He should’ve been coming out in the next few weeks. With good behaviour, he would’ve had only a couple more weeks to serve. Sure, he would’ve been on licence, but they could cope with that. At least they’d have been together. At least Nick would have him back at home. They could have started to repair this. Nick’s fed up of an empty home and an empty bed. 

But no, Louis had to be a dickhead and get involved in a fight of some kind. Nick hasn’t even been able to get details, but Louis lost his visiting privileges for three weeks, meaning it’s over a month since they’ve seen each other. Nick feels as sick and anxious as he did the first time he came here, even as bad as the first time he saw Louis after his arrest. 

Everyone says he’s daft to even give Louis the time of day. Says he’s more trouble than he’s worth, that Nick could do better. The thing is, Nick doesn’t want anyone else. It’s not just about love – it’s about safety. He always felt safe with Louis. He always felt at home. He felt like they were building something really special together, until – 

A warder speaks, interrupting Nick’s thoughts. It’s ten o’clock by the clock on the wall above the warder’s head, so Nick follows other families and friends through to the visiting room, trying to take a few deep breaths as he does so. 

Louis is at a side table, over the far side, his eyes on the table in front of him. He’s wearing blue jeans and a burgundy sweatshirt and the infernal tabard all the inmates are forced to wear at visiting time. It’s red. It reminds Nick of playing hockey at school, when everyone had to wear one of those things. 

Louis looks kind of pale. His leg is bouncing wildly under the table. He doesn’t look up at Nick until Nick is standing behind the chair opposite him. And when he does look up, Nick sees fear. Real actual fear. 

Nick sits down heavily, everything he had planned to say slipping entirely out of his head. Louis looks awful.

“I’m not angry,” Nick says. “You’re a fucking idiot, but I’m not angry.”

“I know I’m an idiot,” Louis says, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m angry about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Louis rubs a mark on the table top. “I’m supposed to be coming out next week, I was supposed to be.”

“How long extra have they given you?”

“Five weeks.”

“Okay.” Nick takes a deep breath. “That’s not that much longer. That’s just another month, basically. We can cope with that.”

“Yeah.” Louis doesn’t look up.

“Shall I get you a drink?”

“Tea, please,” Louis says. 

“Milk and sugar, obviously.”

“Obviously.” There’s a slight hint of an eye roll in Louis’ voice and Nick smiles.

He stands up and goes over to the machines on the wall behind Louis. He buys two cups of tea, a Twix, and a Kinder Bueno.

“I wasn’t sure which one you’d want,” he says when he puts them down on the table by Louis. “But they’re both two sticks, so we could go halves.”

“Yeah, alright.” Louis rips open one packet and offers half the Twix to Nick. 

Nick takes it, dips it in his tea, then licks the chocolate off before biting the biscuit.

“So gross,” Louis says. 

“You say that every time.”

“Yeah yeah,” Louis says, almost with a laugh. He bites his Twix half slowly, which says more than any words ever could. 

Nick reaches and rubs the back of Louis hand softly. Louis’ eyelids flicker but he doesn’t move or flinch away. He’s managed to keep himself to himself in prison, with less homophobic bullying that Nick had ever dared to hope for. But even so, they’re not overly physical with each other when Nick visits, not like some of the couples sitting around them. That’s fine, of course it is, but Nick really can’t wait for the day he can hug Louis properly again. 

“So what was the fight about?” Nick asks, lifting his tea to take a sip. It tastes of the plastic cup it came in. 

“Don’t ask.”

“I am asking, dickhead.”

“So rude.”

“Well. I’ve made all these massive plans for your coming out party and then you go and fuck it up. I’ve had to uninvite everyone.”

“Fuck off, tell me you haven’t actually planned a party.”

“No, bloody hell, of course I haven’t.”

“Good. Christ, you had me going for a minute there.”

“Sorry. Sorry. Nah, no. I just want you home.”

“Your home.”

“Don’t start all that again.” Nick swishes his tea around a bit. “It’s your home as much as mine.”

“I didn’t pay for it.”

“So? I want you to live there, love.”

“Even after…”

“Even after all this shit, yeah.”

Louis takes a big gulp of tea. “There’s a new lad on the wing. Just a bit down from me. He must be all of twenty, really young. I’m not sure what he’s done, but he’s… Terrified. Clearly terrified.”

“Poor thing.”

“I know.” Louis breathes in, fiddling with the plastic Twix wrapper. “These other lads started on him and I – I stepped in. You would’ve done the same thing.”

“Probably.”

Louis nods. “But I’d got a pool cue in my hand so… It looked more aggressive than it was, you know?”

“Okay.” Nick doesn’t know, doesn’t actually have a clue about any of this, but okay, he trusts Louis to tell the story.

“So I got the fucking riot squad on me, like I was about to start shit, and yeah I might’ve been screaming a bit but – I just wanted them to let him be.”

“Oh, love. Your bark’s always much worse than your bite.”

Louis flashes a smile. “Thanks, I think. I mouthed off at the governor too, which didn’t help. That kid should be in young offenders, not in here.”

“He must’ve done something bad, though.”

“Maybe. Maybe. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Them lads all got away with it and I lost all my privileges.”

“Idiot.”

Louis nods. Then he rips open the Kinder Bueno packet. “They’re fucking shit, these. I dunno why you bought one.”

“Oi, I love those things. They’re creamy.”

“They’re for five year olds.”

“Don’t share it then, I’ll eat it.”

“Nah, no way.” Louis bites one piece of his half. “God, you know what I do want?”

“What?”

“Chicken madras. A proper Indian takeaway. Curry, rice, naan bread. All of that. A proper crispy onion bhaji.”

Nick laughs. “I think we could manage that.”

“Good. Also a Chinese takeaway. Crispy duck, sweet and sour pork balls. Then pizza the night after? Stuffed crust pepperoni, fuck…”

“Jesus, yes, alright, anything you want.” Nick is laughing more, his hands up in a gesture of supplication, and Louis is actually grinning along too, his teeth on show. 

“Marry me,” Louis says suddenly. “That’s what I want.”

“What?”

“Marry me. When I’m out, or we can wait, we could plan it properly. Whatever you want.”

“Lou…”

“Nick. It’s been – it’s been shit. I’ve proper fucked up my life since I was about eighteen, you know? Fucked it all up.”

“You –”

“I have, don’t try to tell me I haven’t. I know I have.” Louis shakes his head a bit. “But you, I didn’t fuck up falling in love with you.”

Nick swallows. “Love.”

“I know, I know, it’s kind of a mess. Can’t we put it back together?”

“I mean, I would like to.”

“I would like to, too.” Louis reaches for Nick’s hand and their fingers intertwine loosely, gentle. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to get married,” Nick says. 

“Neither did I,” Louis says, smiling softly. “But I do.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Does that mean you agree? Are you saying yes?”

“Yes, god, yes. I’m saying yes.”

“Fuck yes,” Louis says with feeling. Then his eyes dart around a bit, and he stands up a little and leans over the table and kisses Nick’s cheek.

Nick says a quick goodbye to Louis, just a quick hug. Hopefully he’ll only have to come here one more time. He is practically bouncing though as he walks out of the building and through the barbed wire fence and across the car park. Everyone around him is trudging but he feels like he’s going to burst with the joy of it. Alright, so it’s probably a bad idea, but if it is, he wants it to be a bad idea that he’s going to go along with anyway. It doesn’t feel like a mistake. At the very least, it feels like an adventure. 

He gets into the car and waits a few seconds, checking his phone. He could ring his mum, but he’s not sure what her reaction will be. 

Instead he thumbs to Aimee’s number and calls her. She picks up on the fourth ring. 

“Nicholas,” she says, mock-sternly. “How’s it going?”

“Aimee,” Nick says. “I think I just got engaged.”

She shrieks so loudly that he has to pull the phone away from his ear for nearly a minute. 

He laughs, feeling happiness well up inside him. Soon Louis will be home and everything will be worked through, and they’ll plan a wedding and it’ll be lovely. 

**2 Years Ago**

It’s early one Friday morning and Nick has just stepped out of the shower. He generally leaves the house at just after 9 to get to the studio in time. He was awake early this morning, though, worrying about nothing in particular. Louis slept on beside him, and is only now awake, head resting against the pillows, looking at his phone.

Nick dries off, pulls yesterday’s jeans out of the pile on his chair, plucks a clean t-shirt from the wardrobe, and gets dressed. He goes back into the bathroom to slap on some aftershave. He hears Louis get up, come across to the en-suite behind Nick. They grin at each other in the mirror and Nick picks up his toothbrush. 

He leaves the bathroom so Louis can pee, but just as he sits on the bed there’s a knock at the door. No, not a knock. A bang. A recurrent banging.

Nick goes through quickly and opens it with an, “Alright, alright, keep your hair on.” It dies in his throat, though, because at the door are several uniformed police officers. He’s pretty sure one has a gun. He freezes.

“We’ve got a warrant to arrest a Mister Tomlinson,” the lead officer says. “You’re not him.”

“No, he’s my… He’s in the bedroom…” 

Nick is shuffled out of the way. Several officers pass between him and the lead guy, who is a chubby older fella, who has his beady eyes on Nick and won’t look away. 

“What’s this about?” Nick says, trying to feel braver than he feels. “You can’t just walk in here…”

“We can, actually.” The guy offers forward a sheaf of papers, but Nick can’t focus on the words. “We’ve a warrant to arrest Mister Tomlinson and to search this property. He does live here, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Nick says. “He does. Only for a year or so, but…”

“Good. Thank you. Who are you?”

“His partner,” Nick says. He would really like to not give his name, on the off chance that this officer doesn’t recognise him and won’t be laughing about it with his mates at the station later. 

The man nods. 

Nick swallows his toothpaste. “Can I rinse this off?”

“Kitchen sink is fine,” the man says, and follows Nick over to it. 

“What are you arresting him for?” Nick asks, drying his mouth on a manky tea towel. “Can you tell me that?”

“We have reason to suspect Mister Tomlinson is supplying Class A drugs from this property.”

Nick reels. The kitchen tilts around him. “What.” His voice sounds sticky with toothpaste.

“Could you accompany us to the station too, Mister…?”

“Grimshaw,” Nick whispers. “Do I have to? I’m supposed to be at work. I don’t know anything about this.”

He isn’t sure whether the man believes him or not, but he nods anyway. 

“I really would appreciate the chance to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Nick says eventually. “Can I get some shoes?”

The man nods again, and they go into the bedroom together.

There, there are two women and a man around Louis, who has managed to get half dressed. He’s glowering, and he’s flushed pink too. Nick can hardly look at him. He doesn’t know what to say. He finds some shoes and shoves his feet into them.

“Let a man get dressed, won’t you?” Louis says, but there’s no fight in his voice. 

Nick has a really bad feeling that that proves that this is true, that Louis has been dealing drugs. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.

“Why don’t we go together in your car?” the first officer says to Nick. “Let’s go now, if you’re ready.”

“I just need to ring work,” Nick says. He does so standing in the living room with the officer staring at him. He rings the assistant producer, says he’s got a personal emergency, and quickly hangs up. This has to count as a personal emergency, right?

The officer gives him a grim smile. “Would you like to drive?”

Nick nods. He picks up his keys. “What will happen here?”

“We’ll be conducting a thorough search of the whole flat, including doing some swabs for evidence of illegal substances. You’ll be given a receipt for anything we take away. If you leave your key, they’ll lock up behind them.”

Nick fumbles to take his house keys off the bunch. He leaves them on the side in the kitchen. He can’t see Louis, but he’s sure he heard the snap of some handcuffs. He sets off down in the lift with the first officer and a female cop. 

She sits in the back of the car. Nick fumbles the transmission – this is a new car and it’s an automatic and he’s still not quite used to it. He can’t – he can’t quite get his head in gear.  
He drives to the police station without really seeing the traffic. He’s trying to think, and fast. When he and Louis first met, Louis had been a student. He said he didn’t need to work, he said he had an inheritance that was paying for his way through uni. Since graduating the previous June he’s had a couple of jobs, but nothing like a career. And to be honest Nick hasn’t really cared. He’s got enough money to support both of them, so that’s what he’s done. He’s generous with his money, paying for meals out and weekends away for friends and family alike. He’s always just paid for Louis. It’s only money. He’s invested some of it, obviously, for the future. But he’s young still, what’s the point in worrying about it? 

And Louis isn’t a drug _user_. Nick is pretty sure of that. Well, okay, maybe he smokes marijuana occasionally. They both do, maybe one weekend every couple of months, when they’re just chilling out for the weekend. But would Louis really be dealing dope at such a level to warrant eight officers and all of this? Would anyone? Nick’s got no idea. He’s never actually bought dope himself, not even as a kid. So for that, yeah, Louis clearly has a source. 

But he’s not been doing anything else. Has he? Nick is sure he would’ve noticed, especially since Louis moved in. It’s all bonkers. It’s all fucking bonkers.

He parks the car and follows the officers inside. He’s shown into quite a nice little room, not an interview room, and is then left to wait. 

He thumbs through Twitter for a bit. He should probably get in touch with someone, but he’s not sure what to say right now. Better to wait until something actually happens. 

The female officer comes in after about twenty-five minutes. “Can I get you a cuppa?”

“Just some water, please?” Nick’s throat is dry. 

“Course. I’ll be right back.”

When she comes back it’s with the first officer again. Neither of them introduce themselves, but she’s got a cup of tepid water that she passes to Nick, and a notebook. 

“Nothing to worry about,” the man says. “If you could just tell us about your relationship with Louis Tomlinson.”

“Well… Like, what? He’s my boyfriend.”

“When did you meet him?”

“A couple of years ago? At a club. He was at uni.”

“And what do you do?”

“I’m a DJ. On the radio.”

“Oh, are you?” The man flicks his eyes to the woman. She’s scribbling everything down. “Do you like a drink? Like to party?”

“I mean… Yeah, kind of? Who doesn’t?”

“And do you do drugs, Mister Grimshaw?”

“No,” Nick says. “I don’t.”

“Does Mister Tomlinson?”

“Well, no. No. I don’t think so. And I would know, wouldn’t I? I live with him.”

“How long have you lived with him?”

“Just over a year now? He lost his last house so… Just seemed like the right thing to do…” Nick’s voice trails off. The officers are just both so impassive. He’s not sure what they want him to say. 

“What does Mister Tomlinson do for a living?”

“Nothing. Nothing, really. He’s worked, but…” The more he says, the more he thinks about it, the worse it sounds. It sounds like Louis really could be making money dealing drugs. 

“What’s he supposed to have been dealing?”

“Cocaine,” the man says with that grim smile again. “And rather a lot of it.”

When they’ve done with him they leave Nick in that room. He paces a little. There’s nothing to look at out of the windows except the car park. Nick leans on the windowsill and then is reminded of a few times when Louis has had an unexpected visitor. He’s pretty sure Louis has another phone, too, but that’s not that unusual, is it? He keeps thumbing through his contacts, trying to decide whether to ring someone. His mum, maybe, or Aimee. Time ticks. 

Nick isn’t sure whether he can leave, or what. Surely they can’t just keep him here for no reason? He’s about to go to find someone when the woman comes back.

“You’re free to go,” she says. She holds up his house keys. “The searches have finished in your flat.”

“Thank you,” Nick says automatically. Still, no need to be rude to her. She hasn’t done anything wrong. “What about Louis?”

“He’s being interviewed currently. If I was you, I would go home, sit tight, and wait for him to phone you.”

Nick nods miserably. “Alright. And did you find anything?”

She hesitates, then nods. “I’m afraid we did.” She doesn’t say anything else, though, so Nick just leaves the building. 

On his way home he rings Aimee, who’s just finished work. “Can you come to mine, please?”

“Yeah, course. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re there?” Nick feels tears start in his eyes and throat. 

“Okay,” Aimee says. Nick is thankful she doesn’t press it. 

Then he does the same thing to Harry. Okay, so he’s Louis’ friend, but he might know more than Nick does. He’s not working today, so he agrees to come over. By that point, Nick is nearly home. He lets himself into the car park and then sits in the car until Aimee texts and says she’s outside.

They meet by the lift. She kisses his cheek and then frowns. “You look awful, love. What’s up?”

Nick shakes his head again, calls the lift, and steps into it. It’s only when it’s moving that he can speak. 

“Louis got arrested this morning.”

“Louis _what_?” Aimee says. The shock in her voice makes Nick feels better, like it’s not just him who’s blindsided by this. 

“He got arrested for dealing cocaine.”

“What the fuck?!”

“I know. I know.” Nick is staring at the lift doors. “I just… I don’t get it.”

“Me either, love. Me either.”

The lift slows, and opens. His flat door still looks exactly the same, but when he opens the door he gets another shock. 

The flat has been completely turned over. Everything has been moved, searched, looked in, under, over. Nothing is in the place is should be

“Jesus Christ,” Aimee says. “Jesus.”

“This is awful.” Nick sits down on the pouffe that sits next to the coffee table. It’s about two feet left of where it should be. He wraps his arms around his head and then begins to cry. 

Harry arrives a little bit later and Nick fills him in on the situation. He and Aimee help Nick put things back together. They fill two black bags with stuff that’s not salvageable. Louis’ gaming room looks horrendous. It’s absolutely upside down. Nick doesn’t really know what’s what, so he decides to just leave it.

There’s a residue of something on all of the surfaces. It’s not exactly sticky but it’s there. Nick rubs at it.

“It’s how they test for cocaine,” Harry says. “Well, and other stuff. I googled.”

“It’s weird,” Nick says. “You know, I’m just going to let Louis deal with this.”

“I’m sure he will,” Aimee says quickly, too quickly. “When he’s back.”

Nick looks at her. Does she think Louis will end up on remand or something? Does she think he won’t be coming back here?

This is all so bizarre. Nick feels like he’s living in a different world.

They finish the clean up and then settle down in front of the Real Housewives of Cheshire, which Nick loves to watch with horror and which, it turns out, Harry has a similar love for. Nick’s on edge though. The show fails as a distraction. The others can obviously tell but Nick appreciates their company anyway.

Nick sends Louis a text, in case he’s allowed to look at his phone or something, but doesn’t get a reply. At 6pm they order a takeaway and Harry walks down to fetch it. It’s Chinese food – sweet and sour pork balls and spring rolls are extremely comforting, but Nick still feels sick. 

The phone rings at 7.55pm and even though Nick has been watching it for the whole time he jumps anyway. He fumbles to answer. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” Louis says.

“Yeah, yeah. Course. Yeah.” Nick stands up, steps over Harry’s feet and heads into his bedroom. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. Look, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, no, I get it. I get it.” Why is he being so nice? Nick feels furious, but Louis just sounds so tired. 

“I’m being bailed,” Louis says. “Can you come and get me?”

“Of course. I’ll be like twenty minutes?”

“Thanks Nick.” Louis hangs up.

Nick can’t remember the last time Louis called him Nick. Usually it’s a stupid nickname or epithet, but this time… 

Nick goes back out into the living room, pulling at his hair. “I can go and pick him up.”

“Oh, good,” Aimee says. “That must be good news?”

“He’s being bailed,” Nick says. “Does that mean they’ve charged him?”

“I think so?” Harry says. “I’m not sure.” He’s putting his boots back on. “We’ll get going.”

“Yeah,” Aimee agrees, putting her cup down on the coffee table. “Do you need anything else?”

“I don’t think so?” Nick says. He collects his jacket, wallet, keys. “Thanks though. You’re both the best. Thank you for coming over.”

The three of them hug in the doorway, Nick with his eyes shut tight.

He’s got to keep it together for just a bit longer.

He drives back to the police station and heads inside. Louis is sitting on a hard plastic chair in the foyer. He gives a small smile.

“So you just… leave?” Nick says.

“Yep,” Louis says. He flicks a glance at the duty sergeant and then heads out of the door.

Nick has no choice but to follow him. 

Louis lights a cigarette in the car.

“Can you put the window down?” Nick asks.

Louis does, his arm waving out into the rain. The windscreen wipers screech against the window. “Are you angry with me?”

“Are you a drug dealer?”

“Fair question.” Louis takes a deep drag but doesn’t answer the question. 

“It wasn’t rhetorical,” Nick grumbles, but Louis doesn’t rise to the bait. 

He just smokes all the way home. They sit in silence right up until Nick is unlocking the door to the flat. 

“Is it a mess?” Louis asks. “They usually leave it a state.”

“What do you mean, usually?” Nick turns in the doorway, frowning. “How many times has this happened?”

Louis at least now has the grace to look shamefaced. He goes into the flat, pours himself a pint of water, and then turns round. “A couple. It’s partly why I had to leave the last place. I got released that time, though.”

“Fucking hell, Lou.”

“Can you just, not?”

“What do you want me to say?!” Nick feels the anger burn up inside him, desperate to be free. “Fuck’s _sake_ , Louis! Hordes of police at my door first thing and then twelve hours later you finally get bailed! What’s going on?! What happened? Is it true?”

Louis takes another deep gulp of water. “Yeah. It’s true.”

“Fuck.” The life leaves Nick. He’s – he just can’t believe this. He turns and goes into the bedroom, but on the way he says, “I need you to get out of this house, Louis.”

Louis follows him. “What?”

“I need you to leave.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Why do you think?”

“I’ve got nowhere to go. I’ve been bailed TO this address. I’ve got to stay here.”

“You’re a criminal.”

“I’m not proud of it…”

“You don’t exactly seem shy about it! Jesus Christ.” Nick furiously pulls off his boots and throws them into the corner. One leaves a mark on the grey paint. “If this gets out…”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” Louis has his hands clasped in front of him, pleading to Nick. “Look, it just… It got out of hand, yeah? I dabbled a bit when I was at uni, okay. I just knew some people and just… It was twenty quid here and that, that’s all.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then,” Nick says sarcastically. He sits on the end of the bed, rubbing his hands through his hair again. 

“It’s not okay. It’s not okay, I know that. Of course it’s not.”

Nick flicks a look upwards at Louis. “So what happened?”

“I’m not a drug user.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Good. Because I’m not. I’ve done it a couple of times, years ago.”

“Right.”

“Right. Just being honest.” Louis bites his top lip.

“Mmm.”

“I don’t know exactly what happened. I don’t know who ratted me out. But they knew so much shit. So much of the ins and outs. I think cos I’m just a bit off by myself, I’m easy to go after.”

“I can’t hear this,” Nick says. “I’ve got my career to think of. What’s it going to look like if everyone suddenly knows that Manchester’s most popular DJ’s boyfriend is a drug runner?”

Louis makes an anguished noise. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe you brought that shit in here. I’ve had friends die from addiction, you know.”

“I know. And I didn’t. Really, I didn’t, there was never much here. I promise you that. I’ve got a store place.”

Nick looks up at him again. “Really?”

“Yes, god. I didn’t want you to be involved at all.”

“Kay.”

“They charged me.”

“What with?”

“They’ve charged me with intent to supply and possession and all of that shit.”

“Fuck’s sake.”

Louis says nothing for a few seconds. “I don’t suppose you know a good lawyer, do you?”

“Are you joking me?”

“No. I can’t pay… They’ll stop access to my money cos, you know, it’s made from the proceeds of crime.”

“You know all the lingo, don’t you? You’ve got it all down.”

“Please don’t be like that with me.” Louis comes and kneels down in front of Nick. “Please. I love you.”

“I love you,” Nick says. “But I didn’t know about all of this, about any of it. You’ve lied to me all this time.”

“I know. I know.”

“Stop fucking saying that.” 

“Sorry. I am so sorry. For everything.”

“It’s a mess.”

“It is.”

Nick takes a few deep breaths. “I do know some decent lawyers.”

“Thank you.”

“I just can’t believe this is how you make money.”

“It’s not ideal.”

“That’s a fucking understatement.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe they actually charged you?”

Louis nods, eyes full of anguish. “The duty lawyer said I could get three years.”

Louis has been at home until his trial date, which has taken four months to come through. It’s been… tense. He and Nick have rubbed along together, sleeping in different rooms, but still friendly. Still friends. They’ve had sex a couple of times, which probably made Nick feel even worse than he had before, but he had craved the comfort and closeness. It all came out in the tabloids, obviously. Nick knew it would. They were doorstepped a few times and decamped to Liv’s flat in Liverpool while she was away (with permission from the police), which helped. Nick’s not sure whether he was lucky to keep his job, because if there was any chat otherwise it never made its way to Nick. He thinks his team have kept it from him, and he’s so grateful for that that he can hardly think about it. His job has carried on unmarred. Thankfully, because it’s given Nick something to do and has kept money coming in. Lawyers don’t come cheap. 

Harry and Niall and the other lads have been over a few times. Nick’s pretty sure none of them knew Louis was supplying on the scale that he was. They called him an idiot but they’ve done a good job of trying to keep everything normal. 

The lawyer, Anna Sanderson, is pretty sure that Louis will do jail time, thanks to the quantities involved and thanks to his prior arrests for possession. She’s told Louis to pack his bags and expect to get at least a year. Still, with good behaviour that means he could be out in six months. Nick keeps clinging to that. Six months is nothing. One Christmas apart, one Easter. It’s nothing. 

Louis is vibrating with anxiety on the morning of the trial, but he puts his grey suit on and gets into the taxi with Nick. If the driver recognises them, he doesn’t say anything.  
They’re both silent too. Nick looks out of the window, watching Manchester go past. 

There’s absolutely nothing he can do right now. He’s been talking to everyone about this – his siblings, his mum, Liv, Aimee, Ian. They all think he’s daft for even giving Louis the time of day. But Nick can’t seem to tear himself away. 

Louis shouldn’t be excused for it, obviously. But there are, what is it, mitigating factors. Nick kind of gets it. He wants to stop loving Louis, but he just can’t. 

He reaches over and squeezes Louis’ hand. He pays the cab driver and heads into the crown court. 

The others are already waiting inside. Nick might have known they would have a support crew. Even his mum, whose opinion of Louis has plummeted to rock bottom, is here, dressed in a nice navy suit. She squeezes Nick tightly, her eyes slightly damp with tears.

They’re shown into a waiting room. Louis paces the room, looking out of one window and then another. Nick can’t do anything but just sit and wait. Then Louis’ case is called and he pales noticeably. 

Nick stands up and puts his arms round Louis. “We’ll get through it.”

“Will we?”

“I hope so,” Nick says. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Louis says, and then he nods at his lawyer and follows her out of the room. 

Nick shuffles into a space in the gallery next to his mum. This is all nerve-wracking. He’s never been in a court before. God knows how Louis must feel. He comes up to the dock before not too long, and stands, his hands on the edge of the wooden box in front of him, staring straight ahead. 

Nick is thankful there isn’t a trial. Louis has pleaded guilty, which has meant no trial, no dragging this out, no salacious details splashed across the press. Plus that has to go in his favour. 

He’ll serve his time and it’ll be fine. Nick is praying for six months.

The facts of the case are read out. The judge stares gravely at Louis throughout. 

Nick can hardly breathe.

“Mister Tomlinson,” the judge says eventually. “We have heard the facts of the case and the quantities of Class A drugs involved. I understand that you have endured personal difficulties. That, however, does not excuse your actions over the past few years. Your actions have almost certainly brought misery into the lives of others. I appreciate your honesty in pleading guilty to your crimes. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Louis nods a little. “I am truly sorry for what I’ve done.”

The judge also nods. “I am passing down a sentence of two years.”

The blood whooshes in Nick’s ears. He sees his mum turn to look at him, he sees Lottie grab hold of the seat in front of her. He can’t hear anything, just a loud thudding noise. 

“Oh fuck,” he says, as Louis is led away.

Eileen puts her arms round him, but Nick feels half dead inside. 

The next couple of months pass in a blur. Nick puts a mask on and goes to work, pretends he’s fine, keeps smiling and laughing and fielding questions about Louis with glib answers. He rarely talks to any of his family because they keep trying to go over it again and again and he’s just fed up of doing that. He speaks to Lottie a few times, but when visiting orders arrive from Louis he leaves them on the side in the kitchen and ignores them. 

He does want to get through it, but he doesn’t exactly know what to say to Louis. Their whole relationship has been a lie, and that hurts more than anything else. Nick knows people who have done cocaine, of course. When he was much younger he did it himself a couple of times, but he never quite got the buzz and didn’t carry on. He knows people who’ve died from addiction and part of him hates that Louis would be part of that. Mostly, though, he just hates that he was lied to. 

He has two very brief phone conversations with Louis where everything is turned upside down and Louis seems to be comforting him and not the other way round. Nick says he’s busy at work but will come to visit eventually. He drinks too much wine at night and goes to bed at 8pm, alone and lonely in the bed, and then he gets up and puts the mask on and assures his friends that he’s fine. It’s exhausting. Even with the best behaviour, Louis will still have a year to serve. 

Right now, that feels like forever. 

Eileen comes over one night and brings fresh food to make and a shit ton of cleaning supplies. 

“Put on your scratty clothes and help me,” she says. She’s wearing her gardening clothes. The trousers have superglue down one leg. Nick doesn’t dare to ask.

The flat does need a clean, though, so he finds an old pair of jogging bottoms and a t-shirt with holes in and goes to help her. They start in his bathroom. Nick gets bored with toiletries quickly so there’s half empty bottles everywhere. Eileen finds a box and they chuck everything in. 

“I’ll be giving these out for weeks,” Eileen says.

“You’re very weird,” Nick says. “Who wants my cast offs?”

“This is all decent stuff, Nicholas. I’ll use some of it myself.”

“Men’s shower gel? Do you want to smell like a sexy axeman?”

She laughs and then steals a jar of the expensive cream Nick uses on his under eyes. (He’s over thirty now, it’s a thing). “Yes I do.”

“Alright then.” Nick turns his attention to cleaning the shower screen. 

“Is any of this Louis’ stuff?”

“We just sort of share,” Nick says. “It never really seemed to matter.”

“Do you have to send him money for things inside?”

Nick nods, looking very hard at the glass in front of him. “I’ve put money on his account thing. No point not, is there?”

“It’s kind of you.”

“He’s my boyfriend, mother.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

“Well,” Eileen says, scrubbing hard at the sink. “You don’t have to stick by him. No one would think any less of you if you moved on.”

Nick stills, chewing the inside of his mouth. “I would, though. I love him.”

Eileen sighs. “I know you do, love. I think that’s half the problem.”

“Well,” Nick says. “I think it’s half the answer.”

**3 Years Ago**

Nick pops into the supermarket on his way home from work. He’s a bit earlier than normal. His show is on in Manchester from 10am til 12.30, and usually after that he eats lunch with his team and their boss, to debrief and discuss what they’ll be doing on the show the day after. But today his producer had to rush off, so they’ve all been set free an hour earlier than usual. It feels like the last day of school. 

He picks up a sandwich for himself and then heads into the ready meal section and gets one of the curry bags – two curries, rice, naan bread, and some little bhajis. Easy but delicious. Then he heads to the freezers and gets a tub of Ben & Jerry’s for afters. He could pick up some beer or cider, but he’s got work the next day. He dithers, thinks about phoning Louis to ask, but then just goes to the checkout without the beer, and pays.

Louis has only just moved into Nick’s flat, and it’s been a learning curve. They mostly get on fine, rub along together. It’s a big enough flat, really – one half of the eighth floor of a nice block. It’s got three bedrooms and a big open living space that Nick has always loved. Louis has commandeered one of the bedrooms for all his stuff. Until he moved in, Nick hadn’t actually realised how big Louis’ gaming collection was going to be, but at least it’s not spread all across the living room. The smallest bedroom has always been Nick’s dressing room, so there’s room for Louis’ stuff too. He owns a lot of jumpers. Like, a real lot of jumpers. Nick’s been complaining about it to everyone. 

Nick drives home, still ages earlier than he would be normally, and parks in his designated parking space behind the flats. There’s a BMW idling in the car park at the end, the end furthest away from the entrance. Nick looks at the driver, wondering if they’re waiting for someone. The car has to have had either a fob or been granted access to get into the car park, so it’s kind of weird. He can’t see much of the driver, but thinks they’re wearing a hood. Bit odd, but never mind.

He goes into the building and into the lift, the two bags of shopping in his hands. As he steps out and turns left towards his flat, he sees a man coming out of his door. 

Weird, Louis didn’t say he was expecting anyone today. Plus, his only friends in Manchester seem to be the four miscreants he shared a flat with at uni, and god knows if they were over, Nick would’ve heard them in the car park. Harry can never talk at a normal volume, and Zayn likes to play music with such a thudding beat that it gives Nick a headache. This guy is older than them, older than Louis. Probably older than Nick, even. 

He doesn’t look up at Nick as they pass in the corridor, but Louis is surprised to see him. 

“I wasn’t expecting you yet,” he says.

“I know,” Nick says. “I got let out early for good behaviour.”

“Right, right…”

“Who was that?”

“Who?”

“The man. The man I just passed.”

“Oh, no one. No one. Just a friend.”

“What kind of friend? Hang on, was he with the BMW downstairs? Did you buzz them in?”

“Christ,” Louis says, laughing awkwardly. “Give me the third degree, why don’t you?”

“Sorry,” Nick says, and leans to kiss his boyfriend. “I bought Phish Food ice cream, by the way.”

“Excellent choice,” Louis says. He takes both bags from Nick, which is a nice gesture, but not a normal one. 

Nick excuses himself to go get changed, but then watches out of the window to see if he sees the BMW. He does – the man is in it, and he thinks the driver is a woman. The car pulls out of the car park, pauses at the junction, and turns left on to the main road. 

All of Nick’s friends and family keep asking what Louis does. Nick deflects, protesting that he’s got enough money for the both of them, which is true, but he gets that his family especially are just worried that he’s being take advantage of. The truth is that Louis doesn’t do a right lot. He was at uni when they met, and unlike most other students, he hadn’t seemed to need to have a job in order to live. His friends had worked a number of places – Liam was a barman, Harry worked in a bakery for three hours each morning before lectures – but Louis had just seemed to swan about from lecture to the students’ union bar and back again. It was true that he had placement once a week. His degree was in Sports Science (which was just glorified PE, Liv said, but she’d always been kind of a bitch) and he had been on placement in a high school assisting with their Sports Science A level. (“See! He’s teaching PE!” Liv said, but Nick whacked her with a cushion until she shut up). He had had a long day every Tuesday and he said that would interfere with a job so Nick just let it go. 

It is a bit odd now that they’re living together, though. Nick reckons he was kind of expecting Louis to fall into more of a helping role than he has. Nick always leaves his breakfast dishes by the sink every morning, and every afternoon when he gets home Louis’ breakfast and lunch dishes have joined them. And it’s not like there isn’t a dishwasher. Nick mentions that just maybe Louis could’ve put all the dishes in it. 

“I was busy,” Louis says, chilled out and laid back. He’s playing Fallout 76 on the PC in the corner of the living room. The music on it is driving Nick demented but he’s not sure it really matters enough to complain about. 

Nick lets it go, it doesn’t matter. He is earning enough to pay the bills for both of them, but Louis never seems short of cash. He often pays for a takeaway or dinner out, and sometimes if Nick’s browsing online Louis will pay attention and then a parcel turns up as a surprise. Nick likes being treated in that way. He’s never had that before and somehow it’s much more romantic than them splitting the bills or arguing over how much they’ve spent in the supermarket. 

**4 Years Ago**

Nick is drunk. Really, stupidly drunk. It’s just before Christmas and it’s been his last show of the year and they’re all out on the lash to celebrate. He squints at his phone. It’s 10.07pm. They have been drinking since 2.38pm, when they arrived at a restaurant a few doors down. The food was gorgeous, and the alcohol was better. Aimee ordered fancy red wine and then when they moved on to sitting in the bar, Nick ordered espresso martinis for everyone. They had a couple more cocktails before turning up at this club at 8pm when it opened. Nick has never been in an empty nightclub before, but since then it’s got busier. Now they’ve nabbed themselves a booth, seven of them squashed in to it. Nick has just drunk whatever’s been placed in front of him. He’s pretty sure one of the drinks was a Smirnoff Ice and he hasn’t drunk them since he was nineteen and threw up thirteen of them after an extremely long night out.

This night could be going the same way. 

“Shift up,” Nick says. “I really need a piss.”

Aimee steps out of the booth, taking her bottle and its straw with her. “Hurry back.”

“I might,” Nick says. “I might bump into someone more interesting.”

“Well, bring him back, will you? I’m bored out of my mind.”

Nick laughs and heads off towards the loos. They’re really filthy, reeking of piss and covered in god knows what. Nick steps carefully over to the urinals, pees, and then washes his hands. He looks knackered in the mirror. He wants to go home. Is 10pm too early to crash out? He leaves the loos and holds open the door for someone as he does. 

”Thanks, mate,” the person says. He’s pretty, an Asian lad with shaved hair and a couple of tattoos on show. 

The lad behind him looks up at Nick to nod thanks too. Then he stops and says, “Aren’t you that DJ?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, yeah.” This lad nods. He’s shorter than Nick, thin, brown hair, wearing clothes that are casual but even to Nick’s inexpert eye obviously pretty expensive. “On the radio.”

“You’re blowing my cover,” Nick says. 

“Oh aye?” There’s a note of amusement in the lad’s raised eyebrows. 

“I’m just out with all of my team, so you know, don’t say anything.” God, what is Nick thinking? He’s the main voice, obviously, but Ian and Aimee and Fi are also heard. They don’t really need a whole nightclub knowing who they are. He’s way too drunk.

“What’s my silence worth?” the lad asks, stepping a bit closer into Nick’s space.

The other lad rolls his eyes. “I really need the loo, Louis.”

“Keep your hair on,” Louis says. He looks at the other lad. He passes something over in the palm of his hand. “Pop off, will you.”

“Alright, alright.” The lad goes through the door and Nick lets go of it and without even saying a word, he and Louis step away from the toilets entirely. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Nick asks. 

“Yeah, alright. What’s your name again?”

“Nick,” Nick says. That’s a bit weird – Louis knows who he is but hasn’t remembered his name? It feels like a move. A bit of a power move.

Nick finds that he likes it. 

“Ah yeah, that’s right,” Louis says. “I’m Louis.”

Nick nods. “Your friend said that, yeah.”

“He’s Zayn.”

“He’s hot.”

“Oh, is that right? Oh fine, don’t mind me or anything.”

“No, I just mean…”

Louis laughs. “I’m joking. Mostly. He knows he’s got it, though. It’s exhausting.”

Nick laughs. They get to the bar and Nick leans against it. “What’ll it be?”

“Just a beer, thanks. Peroni?”

“Alright.” Nick orders two. He’s not really a fan of lager, but at least it’ll be different from everything super sweet he’s been drinking so far. He pays, hands one bottle to Louis, and then clinks the bottles together. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Louis says. “So you really are on the radio.”

“I really am.” Nick points to where his friends are sitting. Fi is standing against the table, her back to them. “That’s all of us. This is sort of our Christmas do.”

Louis laughs. “And you end up in here.”

“I know, I know. I haven’t been in here for years. It’s sticky.”

“It’s cheap,” Louis says. 

They keep chatting and Nick keeps sipping his beer. Every time Louis gulps, Nick watches his Adam’s apple bob up and down. He’s got a bit of stubble going on. Nick wants to bite his neck a bit. 

Only a bit. 

Nick has drunk about half the beer when he feels his stomach turn. The beer isn’t settling well on top of the heavy meal and all of the other alcohol he’s already drunk. 

He’s going to – 

Oh, shit – 

The front door of the club is closest, so Nick says, “Excuse me,” and rushes off towards the entrance. 

Outside, on the kerb, he throws up copiously. It’s awful. There’s about a million people watching and he’s pretty sure some of them are taking photos or videos. This had better not go viral. 

There’s a gentle hand on his bare back where his shirt has ridden up. 

“You alright?”

“I don’t think Peroni agrees with me,” Nick says miserably. His diaphragm keeps spasming but he’s trying to breathe deeply and not vomit again. 

Louis laughs. “I’ve got your coat.”

“You angel.” Nick straightens slightly to shrug on his jacket. It’s freezing out here.

“Your friends are all pissed.”

“I bet.” Nick shivers, still gulping down cold air. “I think I might go home.”

“Let me walk with you?”

“Alright.” Nick nods. “I’ll find a taxi.”

They walk on to the main street and along towards the very centre of town. Nick keeps his eyes peeled for a cab, but none of them are free. What was he thinking, it’s December the 23rd, he won’t get a taxi tonight if he hasn’t booked it four months ago. He keeps trying in vain, but nothing. He slows, his head spinning. “I live right the other side of town.”

“I’m not actually too far away from here,” Louis says. “And I think I’ve got a spare toothbrush if you’d like.”

“Yeah?”

“And a clean top.” Louis nods towards Nick’s, which is spattered in flecks of sick.

“This is really embarrassing,” Nick says.

Louis laughs. “Come on. My lot are still out, so there’ll be no one in.”

“Alright,” Nick says, and tucks his hands in his pockets to follow Louis.

By the time they reach the small terrace house, Nick feels much better and a lot more sober. Louis lets them in to the cold, dark house and turns lights on and then goes into the kitchen. He comes back with two pints of water and some painkillers.

“Thanks,” Nick says, and takes two of the tablets with half the water. “Who do you live with?”

“Oh, lads from uni,” Louis says. He sits down on the sofa. “Zayn, Harry, Liam and Niall. Niall’s already gone home to Ireland but the rest of us are going tomorrow.”

“Where’s home for you?” Nick sits down too. The house isn’t at all fancy, but the sofa is really comfy and he needs it. 

“Doncaster,” Louis says. “I’m a Yorkshire lad.”

“I nearly am,” Nick says. “I’m from near Oldham.”

“That’s not the same thing at all,” Louis teases. “Unless it’s Saddleworth and then yeah alright, we’ll let you in.”

Nick laughs. “I’ve been to Doncaster Dome, though.”

“Have you? What for? I used to work there, I was a waiter.”

Nick laughs again. “I did a bit of silver service in my time, too.” 

Louis laughs. “I like the ice skating best though.”

“Have you been to the rink at Salford Quays? It’s there for Christmas.”

“No,” Louis says, swallowing some water. “Harry said we should, though.”

“It’s a good laugh,” Nick says. 

“Maybe,” Louis says. “Maybe tomorrow before we all go.”

Nick drinks the last of his water. “I could call a cab from here, if you wanted?”

“You can stay, if you’d like?”

Their eyes meet and Nick nods. “Yeah, alright.”

“Come on, then.” Louis stands up, a challenge in his eyes again.

Nick follows. He’s not exactly sure why he likes this lad so much. There must be a few years between them, but that’s never bothered Nick. He kind of likes the fact Louis isn’t fawning all over him. Louis seems to just get what he wants. It’s refreshing. 

Louis stops on the first floor of the house and roots around in the bathroom cupboard until he finds a clean, new toothbrush. “Here.”

“Cheers,” Nick says. 

“I’ll leave you to it. My room’s upstairs.”

“Oh, okay.” Nick locks the door behind Louis and cleans himself up a bit. He puts water in his hand and rubs it over his head to stop it sticking up in quite so many directions. He brushes his teeth and feels a lot better. 

There’s a light on upstairs. Nick hadn’t seen the stairs before but they’re in what might have once been the box room. There’s no door at the top of the stairs, just the room. It’s pretty big and absolutely filled with stuff. Clothes, shoes, video games, even a guitar. 

Under the eaves is a bed, not made but looking pretty inviting all the same. Louis excuses himself to the loo and Nick gets undressed to his t-shirt and boxers and texts Aimee and Fi and sets his alarm for 10 the next morning. Then he gets into the bed. The sheets are freezing so he wriggles about a bit to get warm. There’s a skylight window above him and a plane flies overhead, its lights flashing.

Louis seems less sure of himself when he comes back upstairs. “Alright?”

“I’m glad to be in bed,” Nick says. “If you’re sure it’s okay.”

“I’m sure,” Louis says. He unties his trainers carefully and sets them by the others. He gets undressed slowly and Nick pretends to not watch. Then he turns the light off, gets into bed and pulls the duvet over him.

“It’s cold,” Nick says. “I can’t believe you don’t have a blind at this window.”

“I like to see the sky first thing,” Louis says. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it makes sense if you like it.” Then there’s a silence. 

“Can I kiss you?” Louis asks, out of nowhere. 

“Yeah,” Nick says, and in the dark he can only feel Louis move, not really see him. 

Louis’ mouth is warm and soft and Nick yields to his tongue immediately. 

Louis kisses like he means it. Nick has definitely kissed enough people in his life to know the difference. 

They don’t have sex, but they do engage in a bit of mutual masturbation that is very, very nice. By the time they’re done they can hear the others come home and they lie still in Louis’ bed as the others laugh drunkenly, chat on the landing, bang in and out of the bathroom.

“Sorry,” Louis whispers. “I’ll kill ‘em.”

“Drunk people are ridiculous.”

“I know.” Louis’ hand reaches for Nick’s. His fingers are cold. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Alright,” Nick says, and shuts his eyes tight. 

The next thing he knows there’s a small shout from the stairs leading up to this attic room. “Louis?” a voice says. “You awake?”

“No,” Louis says grumpily.

Nick snorts with laughter. 

“Oh, good,” the voice says, and then three lads troop upstairs in a row.

They’re all a little bit shocked to see Nick, although Zayn manages to cover it best. 

“Er, hi,” one who looks like a matinee idol says. “I’m Harry.”

“Nick,” Nick says. He sits up but his chest is bare so he pulls the covers up over his nipples. “Morning?”

“We didn’t know you were here,” the middle lad says. By process of elimination this must be Liam. “We came to say happy birthday.”

Only now does Nick notice they’re carrying presents. 

Louis groans and sits up, stretching his way into a t-shirt. 

“It’s your birthday,” Nick says. “You didn’t say.”

“I’m saying now,” Louis says. “It is.” He grins.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” Louis says, still smiling. “You know you mentioned ice skating…?”

_fin_


End file.
